Chemical Love
by LenaHorror
Summary: Craig Mabbitt [ Escape The Fate ] had been in his fair share of relationships. Yet there was one he couldn't let go that was ruining his life.


[ **Title **] Chemical Love  
[ **Author** ] Lena Horror  
[ **Genre **] MISC. / X-Overs  
[ **Story Genre** ] Angst / Drama  
[ **Pairing** ] Max Green / Craig Mabbitt [ Of Escape The Fate ]  
[ **Rating** ] FICTION M. For language, content and sexual innuendo/implication/scenes.  
**[ Word Count ] **Aprox. 6.5K.

* * *

It went without saying, really.  
Craig Mabbitt was a glutton for punishment.

If the round about, back and forth, never ending cycle with his daughter's mother, Gabrielle, wasn't enough, he was stuck in that same mentally abusive cycle with his now former band mate Max Green. There was a lot of history with Max that the public didn't know, though. Well – they probably did, in a sense. _Fan-fiction_ existed for a reason and Craig was actively aware of that. He had seen stories about him and Max before but it was all taken with a grain of salt. "Shippers", they called themselves. The internet was a horrifying place sometimes, but in some cases the _dark side of the internet_ held truth. The truth was that Max and Craig had a lot going on at one point when they toured together. Harmless fun, they called it. Experimenting, was another term.

Unfortunately for Craig, he gave his heart away too freely and always felt the repercussions of it longer than most. That went with the territory of being himself and fighting the addiction to being in love. Everyone had their addictions, and Craig's was caring far too much about people who didn't reciprocate it properly. Max another statistic in that sequence.  
_  
_Max seemed to** always **be mad at Craig for something.

If it wasn't Max saying that Craig was "shooting off at the mouth" about him, it was something else. Max got jealous when Craig talked highly of TJ or Michael. "You never think before you fucking speak" was a constant back handed comment that Max loved to throw at Craig. And for what? Heresy. The half cracked rumor mill that surrounded them all was something Max got caught up in **a lot**. Instead of getting mad at Max for believing bullshit, though, Craig would end up blaming himself for the rumors getting out of hand. He never once denied that he had to make up stories for the fans that constantly were in his face about where Max was every time he wasn't on tour with Escape The Fate when Max was still a member, but it didn't mean that Craig was always in the wrong.

Common sense should have prevailed for that boy. Craig had dealt with enough drama in his life to know when something was bad for him. He distanced himself from his on-again-off-again girlfriend and the mother of his child for the same reasons. But for some reason he couldn't do the same with Max. Their connection was inevitable. What hurt the most was that Craig felt like he should have called it a day, left well enough alone, and put that distance between them. Occasional texts or tweets. Maybe the occasional lunch outing if they were in the same town. But the longing wouldn't fall away from him. Whenever Craig thought he was strong enough to walk away, memories flooded him and he couldn't leave it be. Really good and really bad memories just the same.

The thought of the first time they slept together; New Jersey on the Uproar Tour during a hurricane in 2011. Max hadn't been nearly as bad off as Craig that night on the drunk part, but that sexual encounter sobered him up right quick and made him question so fucking much. That was right before the band drama with Max hit the fan full force. Then there was that time that Max busted him in the face over rumors outside of Max's place in North Hollywood. There was a lapse of time between the pain and Craig passing out from blood loss and the inability to breathe. It was all a blur until he woke up in the ER, slipped into a panic attack, and then had to be calmed down by Max himself. Max was apologetic as ever. Craig forgave and kissed him without any hesitation. Not long after that violent encounter came another violent encounter, too. Two weeks later to be precise. Craig decided to go see Max, not to talk about the band's problems but just to see his best friend. It turned into skin on skin, body aches, shaking, slapping, hair pulling, fucking... straight up, 100 percent, emotionless fucking. Craig fell victim to that dominant streak of Max's and gave him that instant gratification of vocal appreciation and begging for more. And even after such a violent tirade, Craig still admitted he loved Max beyond friends. Max didn't even really give him anything back outside of confusion and insecurity.

"You really are beautiful..."

"Same could be said for you."

"Thank you..."

It never failed, either. Craig was always the one to compliment first. Take a return, half ass compliment back, and feel like he was on top of the world. He unfortunately knew that it wasn't supposed to be that way; it was supposed to be an equal, two way street where both people were receptive and giving at the same time. _You're so fucking weak_, he scolded himself mentally time and time again. And he knew that. God damn it, did he know that...

In retrospect, it felt like there were more bad memories than good. Especially at the time they tried to make something work. That wasn't really a great thing to think about, either. When you were wanting something with someone to work, you expected more good than bad. But that wasn't the case. Craig knew that he was going down a dangerous path with Max. Max had so much baggage and so many hang ups that it was hard to believe that he could get anything with substance out of that man as far as a relationship was concerned. Max Green was as broken as a China vase thrown against a cement wall in a lot of ways. Pieces scattered everywhere – both big and small – shattered and busted up without any real hope of repair. Yet there Craig was, with krazy glue, an irreparably open heart, and a prayer that he could be put it all back together.

The healer.

The helper.

The fixer.

The lover.

The lost boy.

The equally fucking broken...

Misery loved company. And for Craig, he was madly in love with insanity and the notion of having someone just as fucked up as he was to answer every whim and every prayer he had cried out to God for. That was no gift from God, however. That was straight up the Devil's trap. And he fell victim to it every single time without fail. It was never hit or miss – it was always on target.

It was fucking **pathetic**.

* * *

_**Why do we keep repeating, what we know is unhealthy**__? My body aches without you, __**addicted to you like a drug**__. My hands are always shaking, with you I'm terrified... The thought of me without you, has got me horrified. __**Constantly being accused,**__ while livin' in this lie, __**never satisfied**__...  
_

* * *

With Max out of the band, though, it became harder for Craig to get in touch with him. Increasingly more difficult to spend any time with him. It was always Craig and TJ after Max left. TJ was truthfully that band's saving grace, and even Craig had to admit that. Monte and Robert both adored TJ just as much as Craig did and with the welcoming – officially – of Michael Money to the band, it – for the first time as long as Craig had been there – felt whole. There was always animosity when Max was present because he wanted it to remain a four-piece band. Michael was never included. He was a talented cast out and no matter how much Craig thought it was wrong, Max wouldn't budge. It infuriated Monte, rightfully so, and upset Robert even if Robert wouldn't agree to it. But there was no give until Max was gone.

Kicking Max out was the single hardest thing for Craig personally. At the time of Max's departure, Craig knew he was in love with Max, but nobody else in the band knew it. The Money Brothers and Robert were blissfully oblivious and TJ didn't notice because of how much TJ disliked Max. The more Max blasted TJ, the more tense it got when the idea of having Max visit rose. It was impossible. Craig wanted to invite Max out to visit on tour but that was becoming more and more unlikely because of the fact it was now Max running his mouth about TJ like Max once accused Craig of doing to him.  
Since that was fair, right?

It was in Craig's personality and nature to defend people he loved. TJ was his absolute best friend in the entire world. His "hetero life partner". His heart was so fucking conflicted and torn between the man he wanted to love and the one who was essentially his brother. He had a better relationship with TJ than his own brother, for fuck's sake. That, by default, made his life so much harder. There was simply no peaceful resolution for Craig. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The sad part was it had been months since he heard from Max in any personal way. He thanked Max as his brother in the album "Thank you'"s for the new record but it was much more than that. He just wanted to mention him. It was almost a desperate reach out at that point since he couldn't just call him since Max didn't have the same number and twitter was a useless choice since Max, 1) never checked in other than to promote Opium and 2) it was too public. Granted, Craig could have direct messaged him but it felt so fucking impersonal. Plus, it was harder with Max having a girlfriend to even approach him in any sort of a manner of the heart. Craig felt like he was in a bind and it wasn't one that he could break through with the sharpest of knives.

It was one of those feelings that no matter how you tried to sort it out, there was no happy ending. There couldn't be a happy ending.

Silence was golden.

The break from Max was an unchained blessing in disguise. Craig felt less anxiety and he was able to just focus on himself and his daughter Leila for a period of time. The band started their first tour to directly support _Ungrateful_ and Craig felt like he was on top of the world again. He had his band, his daughter, his sanity and everything seemed to be going in the right direction for him. Hell, he was even on good terms with his daughter's mother. And that was saying something. Gabrielle and Craig had their back and forth for as long as Leila had been alive and then some, but they were friends. Good friends. And he still spoiled her something rotten. She was one of his best friends through everything. They had a daughter together. And it was rumored that they had another on the way, too. It would make sense, since Craig did try to make things work with her when things with Max dwindled into a pile of ashes and forgotten moments. He wouldn't cheat on someone he was with, or wanted to be with, just to satisfy something simplistic like temporary loneliness.

But that reserved bout of sanity ended with a phone call.

Craig didn't recognize the phone number when it came up on his phone in Worcester, Massachusetts. But rather than ignoring the telephone call, Craig hit talk and put the phone up to his ear, walking around the upstairs of The Palladium where their show was being held that night with Glamour Of The Kill and The Color Morale.

"Hey, you've got Craig."

"It's me, do you have time to talk?"

Eight simple words shook him.

Craig said nothing at first. Not really sure how to say anything. It was as if for a brief moment his vocal cords coated with ice and he was frozen to his core. A moment passed before Craig even exhaled a breath, going to a quiet corner of the venue on the balcony of the upstairs room. It was where merch was going to be set up later that night but nobody was up there at that moment. So it was perfect for what Craig needed. He needed a moment to himself. To focus on what was at hand.

Max was on the other end of that line. For the first time in what felt like a small eternity. And his voice was shaky. Instantly Craig's mind leapt to a worst case scenario. He was fucked up on smack again. He was drunk. Samie dumped him. He wanted something. But even with a racing brain that couldn't process a single one of the thoughts, Craig tried to focus.

"Yeah, I've got time. What's up? It's been a while. How've you been?"

"I miss you. I miss you _a lot_."

"I miss you too, dude. Are you doing alright?"

"No."

Craig could almost feel that icy core becoming colder. Arctic. His stomach tangled into what could be described as a noose. He almost felt a deep rooted sickness that coursed him like rushing water through a broken flood gate. All at once. Washed over him and left him feeling down and ill. But Craig was trying to ignore the sensation of panic and worry that were overwhelming every last sense he had. Part of him, the common sense part, wanted to hang up. Wanted to say 'sorry, hope you get better' and leave it at that. Well enough alone. Don't poke a bee's nest with a stick. Amongst other analogies that would fit the bill. But his heart wouldn't let him hang up and just leave it alone.

God, he wished he had the strength to say nothing sometimes.

"What's the matter?" Craig's tone showcased that classic worry that he was known for when it came to Max. It was almost as if Max was the one person who could spark those sort of feelings within him when nobody else could. "Are you still in Hollywood?"

"Yeah. I'm in Hollywood." Max answered, "I'm just, I'm not o-fucking-kay. I fucking miss you. Where are you?"

"Worcester, Massachusetts..." Craig's abysmal retort was followed by a sigh. And suddenly, words came from his mouth he didn't anticipate. "Why do you miss me now? What's the occasion?"

_Did Ronnie drop you like a bad habit, again, when he realized you were beyond any fucking help?_ Craig wanted to actually say that to Max, but he bit his tongue. Last he knew, Max and Ronnie were on speaking terms and Ronnie was trying to play Jesus to his forsaken best friend of old. But only God himself actually knew if Ronnie had the patience to deal with someone as far gone as Max. Craig would wager a guess toward the NOT, and that wasn't because he didn't think all that highly of Ronnie. Truth be told? He didn't fucking give a shit about Ronnie. He thought Ronnie was an immature little bitch and he didn't waste a second thought on someone who was such a waste of his own breath. Ronnie loved himself enough that nobody else's opinion mattered. Therefore Craig didn't let a second thought get crossed in regard to that man. Especially when he tried picking fights with Craig over Twitter. _**Twitter**_**. **Since it wasn't enough for teenage girls to fight over social media, grown ass men had to, too. Yup. Totally mature.

"Can't I miss you without twenty fucking questions? Is that a problem?" Max's tone turned a bit more toward hostile with Craig's request of an occasion. "Are you so big now that you can't take five minutes to talk to me? I thought you loved me. Did that change already?"

The words stabbed like a dagger through Craig's flesh and dug deep into his already wounded heart and battered heart. Of course it would be in Max fashion to play the victim card in a sense of desperation. Craig should have expected something like that. Max had done that to him before. Apologetic, hurting, acting like everything was wrong in the world around him. But even as the words registered in his head and hit Craig, he couldn't have prepared himself to take it. He merely sighed, closing his eyes a moment as he leaned his back against the wall. He was in the darkened corner of the venue so he knew that he'd go unseen by the band and the crew if he wanted to go unseen.  
And at that moment? Craig wanted nothing more than to completely disappear.

* * *

_Chemical love, I can feel you in my bones. Chemical love, can you feel me in your soul? Nuthin' you can do to save me, __**I am on my own**__...  
_

* * *

If there was ever a moment Craig was closest to hanging up the telephone it would have been there. But that damn heart of his wouldn't let him. And that infuriated him beyond all belief. Even through the fury that simmered inside of him, he couldn't hang up the phone. Hearing Max tell him that he missed him and then posing the question if Craig had even loved him, in so few words, held Craig on by the most stubborn of threads. It was a hard pill to even begin to try to swallow.

"I'm not sure what the fuck kind of game you're playing, dude, but I'm not laughing." Craig said, his tone heated. It was evident that Max had struck a nerve.

"I'm not trying to be funny." Max responded, "I miss you. I want to fucking see you. But I can't come to you. I'll come out if we can meet up somewhere away from the band. I just want to see _you_, nobody else. Is that a fucking crime?"

"We'll see what's going on. Are you able to leave California even? Because I'm on tour, I can't just go back there to see you for a few hours. That's not going to happen, dude."

"I'll go to you." Max insisted, sighing to himself. "Why are you being so fucking hostile just because I want to see you?"

"I'm not..."

"You sure as fuck sound like it. Do you want to see me or not? Because if not-"

"Yeah. I do." Craig finally said, closing his eyes to try to brace himself a little. He hated being put on the spot like that and then treated in that sort of a manner. He knew that he didn't need to take it. He could have easily hung up. But he didn't have the heart to tell Max to go to hell like his mind was scolding him to do. "I have a day off on the 20th. I think we're going to be in Chicago for that. If you want to meet me there, I'll take the day off and we can see each other. I'll make arrangements and what not so it's just us if that's what you really want. Though I don't think anyone else here would object to seeing yo-"

"No." Max cut Craig off, "Just you and me. That's it. That's what I want. I don't want to see anyone else in that band but you." Max's tone showed an almost defiant victory. "I love you, you know that? I can't wait to see you."

"I love you too. I can't wait to see you, either."

Even though Craig meant what he said, he still felt an almost emptiness when he hung up that phone. All he wanted to do was sit in a corner and cry. So he was going to see Max in a matter of two days but...he wasn't as excited as he thought he would be. He also didn't know why it was so hard to listen to his head. His heart wouldn't submit and wouldn't take a hint. Even after the exchange of 'I love you's and the promise of seeing each other soon, he still felt a sickening knot in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't recollect ever feeling so god damned low about anything.

_**So over this...**_

In an instant, Craig felt constricted and like he was being choked all over again. His anxiety flared. It was like he was asking for it. Another hit, another punch, another shot... it was worse than being addicted to drugs. It was unhealthy. Love wasn't supposed to hurt like that. And yet there Craig was in Massachusetts feeling like his entire world was flipped upside down and thrown in front of a bus.

He fucking hated Max.

But on the flip side, he fucking loved Max.

The truth of the matter was he felt like he couldn't function without Max.

It was addiction. Pure and simple. And it was taking a toll on Craig that he never thought was possible.

Craig feared that his entire day would be thrown off by a simple, short conversation. But in the back of his head he had to keep in mind he had a show to perform. He had fans to meet. He had a job to do. There were so many things in his life that he had going on that were positive and uplifting, and one person was bringing that down. There were some things that love couldn't justify, and that was one of them. Nobody should bring a person down like that, under any circumstance. Craig was letting someone, however important, throw him off the center of his square. And that wasn't okay.

* * *

_This situation's clockwork, always risin' up from the dirt. Only to repeat disaster, addicted to the way we hurt. Can't breathe for the life of me, I'm drowning in your eyes. I must be under a spell, you've got me hypnotized. Constantly running away but there's nowhere to hide. Always on my mind...  
_

* * *

The windy city was one of Craig's favorite places to be. He usually had such a good time in Chicago and he was hoping that after a couple of days of pent up anticipation of seeing Max, that the anxiousness and – in a sense fear – of seeing that boy again would have been for nothing. Would Max look the same? He hadn't seen him in what felt like ages. Was he going to look coked out and sick like the last time Craig had saw him for more than five minutes? In sporadic passing, Max would pass as a human being. Not some addicted train wreck. But once you took the time to watch him and be with him, that wellness seemed to falter.

Dwindle.

It seemed to vanish into thin air.

That's part of what scared Craig the most. And it wasn't even a surface fear. It was rooted. Like the trunk of an old oak tree into his very foundation. He had his reasoning for feeling so apprehensive.

Max had always given him reasons to worry.

Like Robert, Craig feared one day getting a phone call that Max was dead. And that was part of the reason parting from the band was supposed to be so good for Max. It gave Max a chance to get clean and sober, STAY clean and sober, and not worry about commitments to a band that wasn't slowing down. But apparently that sort of thing was falling on deaf ears since it seemed like everyone else cared about Max more than Max cared for himself. How could someone honestly be like that? It blew Craig's mind.

But here Craig was, at the moment of truth.

He hadn't been that nervous to walk into a hotel lobby as much as he was then. His body was shivering in a barely visible manner. His over all demeanor was timid. He hadn't felt that sort of anxiety in quite a while, and it should have been a cue for him to not go through with it. Turn around, walk back out of the hotel, go back to the band, and go on with the regular, every day business. It seemed easier but Craig never went the easy route it seemed. His heart was too conflicted to go an easy route.

_Oh, God damn it_...

When he stood there, he felt like he was being watched. It wouldn't have surprised him at all considering that a lot of people knew who he was. Especially when it came to the music scene. He was one of the most known, most loved or most hated front man in the entire scene that he played in. But this wasn't a feeling of being watched like that. No, it felt familiar. That familiarity made a shiver go down his spine. His brown eyes surveyed the lobby, trying to pick up the direction in which he felt the most attention. At first it was really difficult to do but then he saw someone he knew incredibly well. That fluttering in the pit of his stomach commenced. But Max looked so different.

It wasn't Craig being vain that suggested Max looked horrible, either. It was common sense and a common knowledge of health consciousness that said Max looked bad. His hair was all over the place in a cluster-fucked hot mess of black and a red, almost orange color. Unkempt. His eyes had bags underneath them that were attempted to be covered up by black make up. He looked paler than Craig had ever seen him before and he was skinnier than Craig could recollect him being. Maybe it was just a matter of not seeing him for a while that made Craig so sensitive to pointing out differences, but it was a lot to take in.

It was a pill Craig didn't want to swallow.

"Do I get a hug at least? Or are you just going to stare at me?" Max inquired, his eyebrow perked in a confused manner as he addressed Craig. Craig shrugged a little.

Craig said nothing at first. He moved over to where Max was, his arms sliding around Max's slender waist rather than offering a verbal retort. And just like that, Craig felt like a weakling all over again. The mental battle that he went back and forth with when it came to Max was stunning. Not in a good way; it was a painful, "how could you be so stupid", Jesus Fuck you're despairingly hopeless... kind of stunning. There was a twisted sense of security that came over Craig when Max hugged him. The familiarity of those arms around his small frame, the scent of Max's cologne, the way Max's hair fell and tickled against the side of Craig's cheek in the intimate embrace.

"Did you miss me?" Max's voice sounded like a soft breeze through a velvet black night in Craig's ear. The warm, whispy breath of air against his earlobe brought a shiver through that boy's body from the point of touch to the base of his spine. _Perfection_.

"More than you know." Craig whispered, his grasp increasingly needy as he clung onto Max like fabric against wet skin.

_**Hopeless.**_

* * *

_Chemical love, I can feel you in my bones. Chemical love, can you feel me in your soul? Nuthin' you can do to save me, __**I am on my own**__...__  
_

* * *

Hair like sheets were tangled and unruly.

A familiar aching coursed through and engulfed Craig's body as Max's arms rested on either side of his head. Wildfire.

A moment captured inside of his own mind.

Pure, unadulterated bliss.

Lips fought for control in a heated moment. A mix of groans and heavy breaths. Craig whimpered out loud from the pressure and pleasure he felt from having Max inside of him for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Craig was not only feeling the pleasure from Max being inside of him and beating that sensitive spot in his body with every pain staking, forceful thrust but from the feeling of Max's hand stroking against his hard cock. Craig was in a completely other world. And only Max was able to take him there.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and his neck. Craig's chest heaved with breaths. His mouth felt dry and his throat raw from how vocal he became due to Max's actions. He had never experienced pleasure like that until he slept with Max the first time. And from there on, he never experienced pleasure that matched it. Or even came close, for that matter. The way Max just pushed him and pushed him, pulled him, yanked him, dragged him from pillar to post, left him wanting more... it was unmatchable. And it was the only reason that Craig could justify, in a sane state of mind, that made him go back.

The feeling of anticipation began to build inside of Craig's stomach. The harder Max pushed into his body the more Craig reacted. It was something he could no longer control. It was animalistic predatory that was a driving source. Craig's fingertips dug into Max's bare skin of his shoulders and back. The short nails on those hands digging fiercely into the pale flesh that hovered over him. The scratching and clawing invoked a half-way-to-violent rebuttal. Craig wasn't sure if it was the absence of their presence with one another that made the encounter at hand so feverish, but it was as if Craig was experiencing his first time with someone. It was so emotion driven. His body felt like it was going to crumble and break underneath Max's strangely dominant grasp. It was like Max was trying to establish to Craig – fuck it into his head, so to speak – that nobody would be able to replace him. Or at least that was how Craig was interpreting it.

And if it hadn't felt so fucking good, Craig might have found it logical to be scared.

Within seconds, Craig's body gave in.

A loud and eventually breathless moan echoed through the hotel room. Blood pooled under his fingernails from how deep he dug into the skin of Max's shoulder and back. It just made Max more vicious it seemed. But it was a viciousness that Craig readily accepted. In that moment, anyway.

The two bodies were left in sweaty, exhausted heaps. Gasping for breath through heaving chests. And that feeling of what, originally, was never ending afterglow, came to a screeching halt. Craig felt awkward again. Fidgety and insecure. While the feelings he had during the actual act of sex was fine, the aftermath wasn't pleasant. He wasn't prepared for that despite knowing he shouldn't have been surprised. He wanted to call it off with Max entirely well before that and then – like always – one thing lead to another. Clothing was removed, kisses pressed in all the right places, and Max's mouth wrapped around his cock. All coherency went out the window.

It was a verification that Craig was a complete failure and a sucker for what was bad for him. Max was poison. He unfortunately had to come to terms with that.

"What the fuck is your problem now?"

Max's question broke the silence of the hotel room.  
It was apparent on Craig's face that something was bothering him, and if Max could pick up on it, anyone could. Max was kind of oblivious in that aspect. Well... either oblivious or downright _ignorant_. The tone of Max's voice didn't help Craig out any. Whenever Craig had something ' wrong ', Max was insensitive to it. He didn't care. He didn't try to care. It felt like the only part of that relationship Max gave any shit about was the sex.

In a sane state of mind, Craig knew any relationship based on sex was a bad one.

"Do you always have to be such a consciousness dick?" Craig spat out. It was about time that Craig said something in a negative respect back to Max since it was always Max giving it to him. When Max went to say something, Craig interrupted. "No. Fuck you. Shut up and listen to me for a god damned change."

As Craig spoke, he fought out of the sheets and blankets that were a blistered mess in the middle of the bed. The pillows were strung all over the bed, too, but Craig didn't have to fight with those. They weren't in his way. He pulled on his boxers and his jeans, leaving Max in bed by himself.

"Do you only think of yourself?"

"Don't give me that drama bullshit, Craig."

"My having feelings is _drama_?"

"It's not about the feelings. Why are you such a bitch?"

_Sex isn't worth this..._

_You deserve better..._

_To hell and back with this heartless cunt...  
_

Craig pulled on his shirt, his vest following. His slip on VANS weren't far behind either. By the time Craig was fully dressed, he had a verbal retort. It just took him a few moments to put the words together inside of his own head.

"You're not worth it."

The four words that slipped from Craig's mouth were words that Craig never anticipated he would ever direct at Max. Max had always been worth it. Max was the first one to welcome him into Escape The Fate with open arms. They were best friends. They became lovers. They became strangers. There was only one thing left and it was against Craig's biggest fears. Enemies. But Craig couldn't take it anymore. His anxiety wouldn't let him. He finally had it.

"You are not worth the heartbreak. Or the tears. Or the insecurity. None of it. You're not fucking worth it. Your hang ups, your insensitivity, your ignorance, and most of all your fucking dependency. It's not worth ruining my life to get wrapped up into yours. I'm not going down this road again. I fucking refuse."

The way Max looked at Craig was as if the small, short, frazzle-haired frontman had shoved him in front of an oncoming bus. It was sudden impact, intense and hurtful. But Craig didn't stop there.

"I gave up so fucking much for you. And for what! So you could string me along like a mother fucking puppet. Do I look stupid to you? Well, do I? Answer me!"

"No."

"You ruined everything for me! I took your side so many god damned times and all you ever gave me in return was a quick fuck and shoved me aside like some damn it doll. I'm not your ex-girlfriends and I sure as hell am not the crack whore you call a girlfriend. You're useless! I'm sick of being treated like shit just so you can feel like you have some fucking worth. I'm done with you!"

Max didn't have anything to say, it seemed.

Though, Max didn't argue, either.

So Craig finally stood up to him. And now he was feeling like, he would almost bank money on, Craig felt after all of those times together. It was stabbing. It was murderous. It hurt like nothing Max had ever felt before. And in the back of his head, underneath all of that initial sting and pain, he knew that he somewhat deserved it.

Max not saying anything made Craig think, too. Though what Craig thought was that Max didn't care enough to fight. He didn't care enough to say anything. He didn't value himself enough to defend himself. It was disgusting. And in the greater scheme of things, it made what little respect Craig had for Max go away. It was a blessing in disguise.

"Don't call me. You got it? Lose my number. I'm not even going to program yours into mine. I don't want to hear from you. See you. Be with you. I can't be with someone who has such a negative self worth and I refuse to be with someone who can't even talk to me like I'm a fucking person. I'm a human being, god damn it." Craig was on the verge of tears as he spoke, showing that he felt strongly and passionately about the words coming out of his mouth. It was just a fountain now. No filter. "The biggest mistake I've ever made in my life used to be letting Gabrielle walk all over me like I had ' welcome ' printed out across my forehead like some cheap fucking mat. But the biggest mistake I've ever made in my entire life was falling for YOU. You never treated me like a person. Only an object. Sex and an outlet to release your bullshit on. Slapping and punching me, verbally talking down to me, all of the abusive bullshit... I didn't deserve that. I deserve better. And that's not me being an arrogant fuck. That's me being REAL."

So much pent up aggression, sadness, fury, depression, anxiety...

It flowed like water from a faucet.

Max had tears in his eyes as Craig yelled, but he still said nothing. And in that moment, Craig saw a coward.

"This is over. We're over. I don't want to see you again."

With that, Craig made his way to the door. Max went to stand up to try to say something... to muster SOME kind of sentence... but he was cut off with a door slamming. He had never felt some empty.

He now understood where Craig was coming from.

The empowerment that Craig felt in that moment was unbelievable, too. He knew now he could move on with his life. And he could do so with the comfort in knowing he stood up for himself and his self worth. While that worth was somewhat tarnished with sex, blood and a lot of tears, he could put it all back together in time.

* * *

_Chemical love, I can feel you in my bones. Chemical love, can you feel me in your soul? Nuthin' you can do to save me, __**I am on my own**__...__  
_

* * *

**Author Note: **This will probably be the only Craig/Max one-shot I do. The song was just far too perfect and it went with something I once wrote with a friend. None of the events mentioned in this story – to my knowledge – are real. So keep that in mind as you read and reflect! It's all based on fictional writing I've done with a friend and took another spin on it. Hope you enjoyed it!

xx  
LH


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